


Hit Me Like a Man

by stubliminalmessaging



Series: Fic!February 2015 [6]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, Slurs, also kenyatta uses a slur, he is literally the only bad thing in this fic, kenyatta is shitty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 21:07:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3303491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stubliminalmessaging/pseuds/stubliminalmessaging
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on knowing how Mandy’s piece of shit boyfriend angered easily, Mickey was honestly surprised that it took Ian ten whole minutes to wind him up enough for him to lash out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hit Me Like a Man

**Author's Note:**

> i like this fic but i hate the title of it so...sorry about that
> 
> it's named after the pretty reckless song of the same title

                Based on knowing how Mandy’s piece of shit boyfriend angered easily, Mickey was honestly surprised that it took Ian ten whole minutes to wind him up enough for him to lash out.

 

                Ian had been glaring at Kenyatta over dinner, probably because of Mandy’s fresh black eye. He’d gotten up to help Mandy clean the table and she insisted he stay where he was and let her do it.

 

                “Good to see a bitch finally knowing her place,” Kenyatta commented, taking a pull from his beer. Mickey was sitting with Yev and feeding him since Svetlana was at a prenatal doctor’s appointment. Kenyatta’s words had his blood boiling. He kept to himself this time because he didn’t want to upset Mandy any further. He still kept an eye on Kenyatta and Ian as he tipped Yev’s bottle a little higher.

 

                “Shut the fuck up,” Ian snapped.

 

                “Say it again, fucker,” Kenyatta growled, and Ian didn’t rise to the challenge. Mickey was glad Ian wasn’t taking his bait. Kenyatta was fucking huge and he and Ian both knew how to handle themselves in a fight but if they wanted to do something about him they needed a plan.

 

                Ian couldn’t sit still much longer. He got up and took up a dish towel to dry the dishes as Mandy washed them. Kenyatta sat back in his chair and pointed at Ian.

 

                “I told her to clean it up by herself. You better back the fuck off,” Kenyatta told him.

 

                “You can’t stop me from helping her,” Ian argued.

 

                “Ian, please,” Mandy urged, her voice steady but her fear shining through in her eyes.

 

                “No, you’re my friend and I’m not gonna let that piece of shit treat you like a slave,” Ian said.

 

                “Fuck you, bitch. If you got a problem with me, say it to my face,” Kenyatta barked and Mickey could see he was clutching his beer bottle tighter by the second. Clearly he wasn’t pleased that Ian was insulting him through Mandy.

 

                “You don’t have to stay with him, Mandy. He’s an abusive psychopath and you’re better than him,” Ian said, and clearly that was the tipping point. Kenyatta slammed his bottle down on the table, beer sloshing across its surface. He got up and stomped over to Ian, putting one huge hand on his shoulder, swinging him around and clocking him in the jaw with his other hand.

 

                Unprepared for the hit and the weight behind it, Ian stumbled back against the wall and Mandy gasped, going to Ian’s aid. She shouted at Kenyatta but it wasn’t like he ever hesitated when it came to hitting her any other time so he advanced on them again.

 

                Mickey was up in a second, shifting Yev onto a spot balanced on his hips and grabbing a knife as he strode past the sink. It was a stretch for him but he reached up and pressed the knife firmly against Kenyatta’s neck. Kenyatta tried to shove at him but Mickey remained sturdy. He didn’t shove any harder, perhaps out of concern for the baby in Mickey’s arm, but for an asshole like Kenyatta Mickey highly doubted it.

 

                “You gotta learn to keep your fucking fists to yourself,” Mickey growled, eyes flicking between Kenyatta’s face and his trembling throat against the blade of the knife. He stepped back after a moment, once Kenyatta had suitably shit his pants and tossed the knife into the soapy dishwater in the sink. Kenyatta didn’t move, chest heaving as he stared at Mickey. “You touch my boyfriend or my sister again and you’re gonna find my hand a bit more clumsy than it just fucking was.”

 

 

                As if on cue Yevgeny started crying and Mandy came forward tentatively and took him from Mickey’s arms. She took him to another room to soothe him and Kenyatta tried to follow her but Mickey stepped in his path.

 

                “Fuck off, man. Don’t come back. Seeing you near my sister and Ian and my kid – fuck, even Svetlana – just makes me want to bash in your fucking skull,” Mickey told him. “So get the fuck out and don’t fucking come back.”

 

                “You’re fucking crazy, man,” Kenyatta told him, apparently finding his voice finally. He turned away from the direction Mandy had gone and instead went for the front door. “I’m gonna be back eventually, you little faggot. You can’t be here every second and protect these bitches. You’re gonna fucking regret this.”

 

                “Yeah, we’ll see about that,” Mickey said, watching as Kenyatta slammed the door.


End file.
